


Stranger In A Strange Land

by amorluzymelodia



Series: Snapshots [3]
Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-29 23:42:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16274783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amorluzymelodia/pseuds/amorluzymelodia
Summary: You comfort Sam after he speaks to Nick in 14x01.NOT SPOILER FREE!Part of the snapshots series.





	Stranger In A Strange Land

He was hunched over his desk when you peeked in, running his hand through his hair at least five times in the minute or so you stood there. Part of you wanted to leave him alone, to pretend like everything was fine and move on. But you knew you couldn’t do that, not when he was hurting. Not when you could help.

“Please don’t ask me if I’m okay.” He said, clearly feeling someone watching him.

“Wasn’t gonna.” You said honestly. “You’d just lie anyway.”

Sam turned around when he realized it was you and sighed, running his hands over his face and motioning for you to come in. You plopped down on the bed and held one of his pillows in your lap, like a kid holding a stuffed animal—it made you feel safe.

“I wouldn’t lie.” He said and you just grinned at him skeptically.

“Seriously? I ask you if you’re okay, you give me some half-assed answer about how you’ve been worse, dodging the question and then you’d turn the subject on to a case, or ask me how _I’m_ feeling and blah, blah blah we’re back to square one.”

“That isn’t lying,” Sam said and you shrugged.

“Lying by omission is still lying.”

Sam just sighed and you patted the space next to you on the bed. After a moment, he acquiesced and laid down next to you, and you lay on your side facing him, both of you reaching out your hands so that the tips of your fingers touched. It was something you’d done as kids, when your parents would drop you off in some skeevy motel for weeks on end, and there’d be nothing to do but wait and wonder if and when they’d come back. The two of you would long for something normal, something safe and kind and so you’d lay down next to each other and just touch fingertips, talking about the things that scared you, the things that made you happy—though those were fewer—and it was like at least while you touched, you’d be okay. Touching fingertips was an easy way to feel connected without having to commit, and the safety and gentleness was a solace you’d both found long ago. Dean had made fun of you when you’d first done it, but eventually, after seeing how calm it made his little brother—and you, who he’d come to think of as a sister over the years—he shut up about it. The thought of Dean made your heart twist painfully and you hoped that wherever he was, he was okay.

Sam was watching you as you both lay there, and you knew he was thinking much of the same. After a few long moments of silence, you decided to get to the reason you were really here.

“Mary told me that Nick is awake.” you said hesitantly and Sam tensed up at the name, the reminder of who _Nick_ used to be. You pressed your fingertips to his a little firmer and he took a deep, shaky breath before nodding. “You don’t have to be the one to talk to him, Sam. I can go in there. Even Bobby or—“

“No.” he cut you off. “It needs to be me.”

“Why?”

Sam let out a huff and shook his head. “It just…it has to be me. Besides, he isn’t even fully healed yet, don’t want to overwhelm him with a lot of people.” Sam said before you could interrupt, his eyes fixed on your hands. “He doesn’t remember much, but hopefully it will come back in time—“

“I don’t care about that, Sam.” You interrupted him and took a deep breath of your own. “I care about your healing.”

Sam shut his eyes and a ghost of a smile flitted across his face. “I don’t know that I’ll ever fully heal, Y/N.”

“I don’t expect you to.” You said honestly. “No one can fully heal from what you’ve been through, but I want you to know that that doesn’t mean you can’t heal _at all_.”

He swallowed and blew out a breath, and you knew he was wracking through memories and thoughts and feelings so you let him work through it. After a few moments he spoke again, his eyes still closed.

“It’s…painful.” He said, his voice barely above a whisper. “To look at him. To talk to him. To see his face and hear his voice and to know and to be terrified even though I know that it’s not…not _him_. I _know_ it’s not Lucifer, my brain knows that. But…” he trailed off and you moved your hand to hold his and he squeezed tightly.

“Logic and reason don’t exactly work the same for us like the do for everyone else.” You said quietly. “Just because you know that _logically_ , it isn’t Lucifer sitting in there, doesn’t mean that seeing the face of the man he possessed won’t trigger traumatic memories.”

“I shouldn’t let it bother me.” Sam argued and you huffed a laugh.

“Let? Sam, none of this has been your choice. You can’t pick how your body or brain reacts to things, especially things and people that caused you so much pain. It’s a conditioned response and regardless of how much you don’t want to be scared…you are. And that’s valid.”

“I can’t _be_ scared right now, Y/N.” Sam opened his eyes and stared at you desperately, tears welling. “I have to be strong. For everyone we brought back, for Jack, for Mom, for…for Dean.”

You sat up and let go of his hand, only to move yours to his cheek.

“Listen to me Sam Winchester.” You had to make him understand, even if he didn’t agree with you right away. “You are the strongest person I know. So much so that’s it’s irritating sometimes.” Sam grinned at that. “But having emotions and asking for help when you need it, especially when dealing with the aftermath of severe trauma, is not weakness. Yeah, you’re our leader and you need to put on a brave face. But only out there.” You nodded towards the door. “When we’re planning a hunt, or strategizing, that’s fine, be all macho and manly and pretend you don’t have feelings. But if you don’t have somewhere safe, or someone to talk to when things get too difficult to handle on your own…you’re no good to anyone. You can’t pour from an empty cup, Sam.”

He furrowed his brow at that last part and grinned at you. “Did you get that off the internet?”

You shrugged. “Mary has a bunch of inspirational quotes saved on her phone. I think it’s like ‘Mom 101’ or something.” Sam actually laughed and you smiled at him. “Doesn’t make it any less true, though.”

Sam nodded and you lay down, touching fingertips with him again.

“I’m not saying you have to talk all the time, hell you don’t even have to talk to me if you don’t want to. But please, Sam…” you paused until he made eye contact with you. “Talk. Scream, cry, shout just… _feel_. You’ve got me, Cas, Mary, Bobby, hell even Jack! We’re your family and we want to help you heal, but we can’t help if you don’t let us.”

Sam wiped a tear off his cheek and nodded, before leaning over and kissing your forehead. When he settled back down he pulled you closer and wrapped an arm around you, so your head was on his chest and your arm wrapped around his waist. The two of you lay there for a bit before he spoke again.

“I thought little sisters were supposed to be annoying.” He said and you laughed.

“Well considering I’m not your _actual sister_ I think I get a free pass.” You said. “But I promise to be more annoying in the future—if you promise to come to me when you need something.”

Sam sighed. “I’ll try.” He said and you smiled, hugging him tighter, knowing that in the months to come you’d need each other more than ever, but knowing that as long as you stayed together, things would work out. They had to.


End file.
